Critics reviews

It’s an assertive style that, in other circumstances, could overshadow the subject matter. But the central characters – Daniella Carter, Koko Da Doll, Liyah Mitchell and Dominique Silver – are feisty, funny and more than a match for the swagger of the directing style.

What could have been a sombre study is offset by sparkling execution. First-time director Smith also edited the film, very jazzily, and shot it — in black and white, with just an impressionistic splash of colour in one sequence.

Directed, shot and edited by D Smith, a transgender woman who used to be a producer in the music industry, and made on a G-string budget, the film covers a lot of ground in a relaxed, effortless way.

Imaginatively edited, sexually explicit, and filled with eloquent and often boisterous individuals of a sort who rarely get to claim a spotlight in documentaries, the trans sex worker portrait "Kokomo City" is a blast of creative freedom in an increasingly corporatized period of nonfiction filmmaking.

Smith’s style is more slickly commercial, at the cost of artistic power, with a run time that feels too short for the amount of insight its subjects offer. What feels fresh, though, is the palpable trust between the person asking the questions and the people answering them. Smith’s approach grants respect to women who are often dehumanized, even in their most intimate settings.

Kokomo City proffers a bold and necessary glimpse of some of the individuals we give short shrift to, knowingly or otherwise.

The film’s most significant accomplishment is the mood it crafts with its cool black-and-white images, fast-paced editing, unorthodox camera angles, handheld camera, and overall jazzy atmosphere. But Smith’s investment on surfaces can only sustain the documentary for so long, as the discourse level of its interviewed subjects—a mix of trans sex workers and, to a lesser extent, trans-attracted men—never quite catches up to the euphoria of the visuals.

Kokomo City is a testament to the resilience of Smith and her participants. It is evidence of how they nurture beauty and softness in a callous world.

"Kokomo City" is a raucous compilation of charismatic storytellers gathered in the most lively way possible. Fittingly, director D. Smith's black-and-white camera often looks up at her stars as they share their thoughts about their work and sense of selves.

Much of the time Smith’s directorial quirkiness complements the quick-fire energy of the interviewees, although sometimes the camera is overly restless, floating about in ways that distract from what is being said rather than zeroing in on it. As with a lot of first-time feature filmmakers, Smith shows a tendency to want to throw everything a her film stylistically – including, at one point, the random use of bright yellow subtitles – which makes certain sections feel unnecessarily skittish.

In Smith’s short, salty micro-budget doc, the t-girls spill the tea, totally reframing the conversation.

“Kokomo City” may be her filmmaking debut, but this songwriter innately understands the rhythms and beats that make compelling cinematic storytelling. You can see it in the staccato contrast of light and dark in her elegant black-and-white photography. You can hear it in the unexpected needle drops and deep-cut tracks, and you can feel it in her lyrical cuts that find small moments of beauty in everyday compositions. Make no mistake, Smith announces wordlessly from behind the camera: I have arrived to change the game.